Static Noise
by Business of Misery
Summary: Kurama walks home late at night and encounters a memory in the form of Maya, a girl that he had saved and that had loved him. Guilt shakes his conscience and he battles the desire to keep her in the forefront of his mind. Slight Kurama/Maya (not OC)


October, he found, was terribly bitter without a sense of remorse for the life that it had taken with each passing. A flicker in the broad spectrum of the universe, the month was rather short. With each winter, trees would wither and die at the loss of their leaves and the wildlife seemed to dissipate into nothing. Kurama knew better, passing under such a tree. Life would begin anew, just as it always had. Spring would come and life would be born all over again.

He did not see any more trees for quite some time as his green eyes- the color the grass _ought _to have been- sought through the darkness. He saw very little as far as other life came; those he did pass were in a hurry to escape the bitter cold, a huff of fog wavering in front of their faces and arms wrapped tightly around them. Kurama watched them keenly, not looking for anyone in particular as faces blurred past him in the night. He found himself alone now, comforted only by the deep crimson coat and the sounds of his footsteps lightly pattering against the sidewalk.

A ghost of a smile haunted his lips as the events of the day replayed in his head, already grainy and static like old films. Those moments would just be stories someday. Kurama was happy, however, with the smiles on faces that would be burned like cigarette ash in the back of his mind. He could never forget his friends that had done so much for him and that he loved dearly. It didn't matter if tonight was just a story, he decided. He would make more memories.

It was just on the corner of tenth when Kurama found he was much less alone than he had been for the rest of his walk. The streets mothered many lingering bodies and warmth surrounded him as he passed through. Neon signs floated overhead like several tiny moons, beckoning adventurers. Laughter and voices permeated the air and Kurama's nose protested the obvious alcohol floating from the bar across the street. He was rather glad, though silently so, when he was away from the party-goers that lingered there and found himself straying further and further away from the bright lights.

He paused in between two large, brick buildings, spotting an alley that snaked its way through the maze of late-night activity. He considered it for a moment, as unreliable as it appeared. A dumpster stood placid against one of the buildings, overloaded with what he guessed was glass bottles and food that had been abandoned mid-meal. He turned away, deciding to take a familiar terrain, as the door on the left building swung open, a creak filling the air. His eyes flickered to it in brief, meaning to spare only a glance. A figure shook his attention and he found a familiar, low energy vibrating from the place.

A figure stepped out, the door closing abruptly behind them and slamming against a metal frame. The laughter around Kurama blurred as he watched her step out of the alley and onto the sidewalk, but she had not seen him yet. He drank her in, a stone sitting low in his throat. Her brunette hair fell down in curls over one shoulder, secured by a ponytail and, he guessed, too much hair spray. Her lips were velvet red and eyes curious as she dug through the pockets of her pea coat and cursed under her breath. And then, to his horror, she looked up and her cerulean kaleidoscopes found the emerald eyes of her former friend.

"Shuichi!" Surprise melted in her voice and a forced smile crawled on her red lips. Kurama smiled back at her, so much more genuine than her own.

"Hello, Maya." He offered, meaning to continue as though the meeting were a simple passing. But he did not move as she approached him, hands buried in her coat pockets. "How are you?"

"Good. Fine. Swell." She laughed, glancing around. She looked down at her feet when she caught a group of men in front of the bar watching her. Kurama's eyes searched her face, memorizing every contour that he had not seen since he was in junior high. It was not that she was easy to forget- he could recognize her face in a group of one hundred in seconds. Rather, he realized, she had aged so beautifully that his heart skipped a beat. "Yourself?"

"I am well." He nearly missed her question, lost in the last memory he'd had of Maya. He had saved her from a group of demons, erased her mind of the event and of her feelings for Shuichi Minamino. That had also been the day that he had met Hiei. It was a vague memory until that moment, seeing her- really seeing her- for the first time. "You shouldn't be out so late alone." He offered as she moved to step forward. He could see the nerves in her pooled eyes as she looked in the direction she meant to go. It was much darker that way, the neon signs eroding into dim streetlamps. Kurama started forward, too, and without an exchange of words between them, Kurama began to walk beside her as she moved down the sidewalk.

The click of her heels distracted him from his thoughts and he spared a glance at her and found that whatever she was wearing, mid-thigh length pea coat concealed it all. He cut the thought there, not daring to wonder which building she had just left or why she had been there.

"It's been so long since I saw you." Maya told him, eyeing the fog escaping her lips. Kurama felt a twist in his gut and hoped that she had not managed to remember the last memory she would have had of him. "Years, hasn't it?"

"Yes, it has." Kurama said.

"What have you been up to?" She inquired, looking over at him as they crossed the intersection. Her face was glowing red under the soft glow of the stoplight and Kurama merely shrugged.

"I've been catching up on studies, spending time with Mother and friends." He saw Maya nod and lick her lips and he thought to ask her what she had been doing, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know. She was not, he realized, as innocent as she had been those many years ago. Something in his stomach dropped.

"How is she, your mother?" Maya asked. "I heard she took ill some time ago."

"She is well, thank you." He told her with a smile. She grinned back and fell silent as they walked, side by side. Soon, Kurama found they were slowing down and soon stopped outside of a large brick building. Vines and moss grew up one side and would have concealed the building in the summer when the trees were lush. Maya turned toward Kurama and he found a hint of sorrow buried in her gaze that he had not noticed before.

"Thank you." Her voice was softer that it had been before, barely above a whisper. The smile had run away from her face and Kurama suddenly felt guilty. He could see her, even now, the way she had been before. Her childishness was there, in every line of her furrowed brows. Kurama imagined the worry that had been on Keiko's face when Yusuke was injured and he thought to check himself for wounds, but knew better. The wound Maya was seeing was internal.

He stood a short distance from her, not noticing the proximity between them. She was looking up at him, eyes swimming with something he couldn't read- it scared him so much more than any demon. Perhaps she could see right through him, perhaps she knew all of his darkest secrets. Maybe she remembered just the slightest fragment of their last shared moment. There was a curiosity, something of bewilderment or wonder that shimmered on the edge of her lashes.

Guilt riddled him, shook him like a hurricane and shot him into the sun. It had been the right thing to erase the memory; it was meant to keep her safe from the demons and the nightmares and from Kurama. The reason for his guilt was hidden somewhere on Maya's face and he _just couldn't read it._

"I don't know if I ever told you," She starts. "But I used to love you. Like really _love _you. Then one day, it just vanished. I woke up and it was like I didn't even care that you'd never see me how I wanted you to. And I never saw you again." Kurama felt his breath hitch in his lungs. She did remember- even just the tiniest fragment, kept locked away all these years in the attic of her mind. But it was there.

"I'm very sorry." And he really was. Maya didn't say anything as Kurama's mind raced through a grainy, static filled thought that had never been a memory, something that never would be. He wondered how life would have been different, had he chosen to show her the attention that he knew she deserved. He decided that she might have been killed, that it would not have been worth just those few memories.

"I'm not bitter, in case you were wondering." And she wasn't. Her smile lit up the street and Kurama felt the corners up his mouth tug upward. A memory was forming in that very moment; a story that was being written even as they stood facing one another. For a long moment, neither of them said anything as they simply let the quiet put things back to the way things were before.

"Good night, Maya." His voice was coarse as though he had been stranded in an endless desert and he wanted to clear his throat, but he found no more noise could leave him. Maya nodded, taking a gentle step back.

"Good night, Shuichi." Kurama watched as she vanished into the brick apartment. He knew, watching the door close in the darkness, he would never see her again.

It was alright, he decided as he began to walk back the way they had come. His desire to lead her to the safe haven of her home had caused him to stray from his path, but soon he found a familiar street, filled with neon signs and the stench of alcohol. He did not look up at the sign belonging to Maya's workplace.

Her image, in childhood and in her high heels and lipstick, burned into his mind like cigarettes. Her face would be there, full of laughter and the memories that he had never made, ones that she could never be a part of. The memory became grainy and static like old movies and before Kurama had even reached the front door, Maya had become just another story.


End file.
